


Stardust on my Skin

by honeybeb, kivy



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: And George... His Sidekick, DayGod!Dream, Deity Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Deity GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dream The Almighty, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, NightGod!George, Soulmates, bc theyre idiots, but idiots in love, but they have it like millions of years after they meet, dnf are in love but they dont realise it and so they call each other 'friend' smh, gasp... and they were soulmates!, george is a simp (derogatory), god AU, historians will say they were pals, what kinda God name is George
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 07:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybeb/pseuds/honeybeb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kivy/pseuds/kivy
Summary: "I will never lack the passion to love you.I am destined or doomed to be truly yours."-Stephen MillardThe beginning of the stars, and the story that follows.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 148





	Stardust on my Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [downthedarkpath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/downthedarkpath/gifts).



> for [elle](https://twitter.com/ERR0RGEO), our beloved.

From the very first moment of their existence, George and Dream were together. 

Perhaps even before. Years, millenia, eons - they were together.

They awoke next to each other, drifting in their would-be sky, filled with everything and nothing and more. Brought into existence - their first sight the other. The Old Ones spoke their orders, and with a wave of their hands, left the two of them to be on their own.

Alone.

Together.

And with their roles assigned, George and Dream worked.

George would attend to his duties of the night, sweeping away the remnants of the leftover days and meandering around the sky until it was time for him to let the morning wash over the world, to bathe the earth in sun and lighten the sky. The people of the mortal realm did not pay much attention to him, but it was simple and calm - it was easy work for a god. 

When the time for night had passed, Dream would rouse the sun from its gentle slumber and pull it across the sky. He would dance throughout the day, blessing the world with just his presence, warm and glowing in the sky. His work was simple as well - all that was required of him was the management of the sun; but the people loved him - for the sun was much more important to a farmer than the more subtle joys of the night. 

Everything about the two contrasted against the other.

As if they were made to be opposites; two halves of the whole universe.

Pale milky skin and tinted bronze cheeks; short dark locks and shimmering gold strands; short with slender limbs and tall with broad shoulders; eyes in hues of gold with green and eyes in hues of blue with brown; day and night; sun and moon.

It was by design, of course.

As all things are. 

* * *

In the beginning, they did not speak much. Too different, they thought. It would simply not work.

But empty skies make for lonely gods - and it seemed as if they were fated to companionship. 

Left together, and with company no other than their own, they found themselves talking quietly in the between-hours where Dream would sit and wait for the right time to wake the sun, and George would get ready for the night to pass and to begin his own rest.

The difference was refreshing: new thoughts and voices other than their own to keep them company. For the first time in existence, after millenia spent co-existing, they finally embraced that ‘together’. And from then on, they embraced it further. Soft laughter and smiles would fill the sky; the people of the mortal realm would wake up a little more rested. A little more happy. 

Though those hours together were fleeting - though they were only a short reprieve from the infinite cycle of the rising and falling of the sun - it did not matter to the new companions.

They were happy.

It was enough.

When George had Dream’s soft warmth, soft body, soft words to accompany his existence… the sky became a little less cold - and a little more forgiving.

Some nights had Dream forgoing any rest to accompany George throughout his nightly duties. Not that it was a grand gesture of any sort; neither of them entirely required that rest - they were gods, after all.

Still - Dream would accompany George. He would yawn, and trail by George’s side on their venture across the celestial plane, and ask quiet questions, and George would try his best to answer.

* * *

On one such night, with no particular significance to either god, Dream asked George another one of his signature queries.

He asked why George had made the sky so empty.

And the question made George halt - if only for just a bit. He had not thought of it before. Had not thought of the sky where he spent his lifetime as desolate. To him, the sky, in all of its vast emptiness, was perfectly fine the way it was; he quite liked the way he could traverse his path across the sky every night without obstruction.

But the look on Dream’s ethereal face made him think. A look of curiosity, melancholy, and enchantment all at once. It made George stop and think.

Dream had asked why he had made it that way - but truth be told, the god was giving him too much credit. He had not made it anything. All he did was awaken, glance at the sky, his home for the rest of his time, and decided that it was simply fine as it was. 

George had no answer for Dream. He answered that he did not know - it was just how things were.

Dream didn’t seem to mind.

But George did.

After that, George had quieted, pondering about why exactly the sky was the way it was.

Optimistic as the sun he cared for, it seemed that Dream remained blissfully unaware of the shift in George’s demeanour. Instead, he began to describe every little detail of the mortal world. He rambled about how amazingly _full_ the mortal world was. That it was bustling with people and creations and so much life, and that during the day he would simply marvel at the world beneath him.

It was normal, like this. For Dream to radiate joy in the darkest times. His face lit up whilst talking, and George just watched and listened as Dream glowed bright against the dark of the night. 

* * *

That simple question stayed with George for a long, long time. Longer than it probably should have - but it stayed nonetheless. Now, when he walked the sky, he noticed how very empty the night sky truly was. How his footsteps were the only thing beside him in the dark.

And for the first time in his centuries of existence, it made his heart ache. 

Just a little.

But enough.

So when, one night, Dream was rambling on like usual with one of his talks about the magic of the mortal realm, George cut him off and finally gave him a response to his age-old question. 

_“I will fill the sky for you,”_ he said. _“If you want.”_

It had stopped Dream in his tracks, and made the god sputter for a split second - he racked his brain trying to figure out what to respond to George’s sudden proposition. It hadn’t seemed sudden to George, however. He had spent more than a few moments thinking about the empty sky, ever since Dream had asked however long ago. It had taken George far too long to think of an answer. He was giving Dream one now.

Dream’s reply was very straightforward. 

_"T_ _hat would make me happy.”_

And that was enough for George.

Enough for him to find the motivation to create - to make something new, for once. It was enough - because it was Dream, and for Dream.

He would fill the sky.

He would fill the sky up to its brim; up until Dream didn’t feel the need to talk about the wonders of mortal realm anymore - and instead of looking down, Dream would look up at the sky above him and gaze in awe. George would fill the sky with marvels and wonders and things to amaze Dream’s shimmering golden eyes. He wanted Dream to look at the sky and be filled with joy; to treasure what George would create for him. 

The only issue with that was - George had to figure what exactly it would be that he would make.

 _Something like Dream,_ he thought. A captured bubble of his own feelings towards and with Dream. Dream as a whole. Something with radiance as bright as Dream’s smile. The smile that fills the sky with glow - so much glow, George has thought before, that there is no need for the sun when he has Dream.

* * *

And one night, he found it.

He had reached deep into his vast ocean of his heart and pulled out the part that loves, that adores, that yearns, and that sacrifices. That part - and had molded it in his hands. He worked alone, in that empty sky of his, and let his longing for the day and the sun and his Dream guide his working hands.

Until, finally, he created something almost as beautiful as Dream.

A star, he had called it.

A star.

It twinkled and burned soft in his hands as he held it softly; held it dear. It needed no refining, he thought. It was perfect as it was. It was exactly what George had wanted - everything he held in his heart for Dream, all the love, platonic or more, bundled into something that would shine and glimmer and take center-stage in his home.

George had cried when he placed that star into the sky. He had cried out of joy. He watched, pride filling his godly veins, as the star nestled into its new home and shone back at George the same way Dream did.

 _“A star_ ,” he had said when Dream asked who the new occupant of the sky was. “ _Do you like it?”_

Dream had nodded, beaming back at George with the same radiance of the light before them. 

And seeing Dream that happy; seeing Dream’s smile…

That was enough for George.

* * *

Something funny began to happen, after he filled the sky with stars.

They began to appear on his skin.

It was slow, but the constellations that he created began to speckle themselves over his body as little glowing dots, marking his milky white skin. They filled any empty space they could find - Orion on the small of his back, Ophiuchus on his slim shoulders, Scorpio on his cheek. 

Dream had been first to notice them, placing a gentle thumb over George’s cheek one day, dragging it softly over the starmarks. George had leaned into the gentle touch, and sighed at the loss of his perfectly unmarred skin. 

_“The things I do for you, my good friend.”_

Dream had simply smiled and called George’s new attributes beautiful, his sun-warmed skin still pressed against George’s face. 

And so, with the tender touch of the god of night, the sky became art.

George made more stars - and more, and more, and more. Up until the point of exhaustion, his deep reserve of powers begging him to take a rest, he had created them. And when he reached that desperate point, he laid back and gazed up at the sky.

It was full.

And it was gorgeous.

The stars, formed by George’s very own fingertips, were diverse in their shapes, colors, sizes - all of them for Dream. George had formed them into pictures, shapes, and stories. Stories that Dream had told him of the mortal realm over the years that they had spent walking over the night; of great warriors and their battles, of epic love stories, and heart-wrenching tragedies that would leave scholars crying.

He put them all in the sky for Dream to look at and weep joyful tears of ambrosia. 

And while the entire night sky had been customised for Dream with stars, there was one constellation in particular that was meant for him - and _only_ him.

 _Óneiro,_ George had called it, the word slipping gently from his mouth and tumbling into the sky as the stars fell into creation.

To someone who did not understand the meaning behind the sky and its stars, it might have just looked like a jumble of tiny lights in the sky, haphazardly thrown into the darkness. But they would be wrong. So very wrong.

George crafted each star intricately and put it exactly where he wanted it to be, weaving together an intimate story of love, friendship, and undying loyalty that would last until the ends of time. When George looked at it he saw Dream, and he saw the centuries of walking the empty sky together, he saw their creation, all those centuries ago, where they both woke and the first thing they saw was each other. 

Dream saw it too, when he first gazed upon the gorgeous monstrosity that was his constellation. He had looked up when they reached the midpoint of the sky and George could have sworn he stood there for millenia, just staring at the sky. When he finally finished taking in and savoring every inch of what George had made for him, he had turned and swept him up in his arms and held George close. 

That constellation was marked over his softly beating heart, glowing just a little brighter than any of the other marks riddled across his body. The constellation, with its faint lines, flowing with the rhythm of his heart and the rush of his godly blood. In his slumbers, George reckons he sees that glow beneath closed eyelids - and he smiles at its presence.

The significance of that glow meant next to nothing to George at the time. A thing of comfort, perhaps, but nothing more. For he was a naive god - with only a few centuries of centuries under his belt; his head too clouded with bliss to think that the glow could mean anything more.

But it did. It meant so much more than he could fathom. Of course it did; it was by design.

As everything always is.

* * *

The naivety of the gods was not something to pardon. It was as prominent as the stars in the sky. Neither Dream nor George noticed the growth of their love of the years. Neither of them realised.

How their hearts swelled at the sight of the other, and after a long period without seeing each other they would rush into the other’s arms and whisper sweet nothings until their voices ran raw. They would laugh softly as the mortals began to make paintings and sculptures of the sun and night god holding the other in a tight embrace, holding the two of them up as the pinnacle of eternal love. 

For all the knowledge they were given, they lacked in wisdom of love.

Until, one day during a sunset of the mortal world, the brink of day and night, the gods gave in.

And when they finally kissed, after centuries of waiting, it was completely natural.

Dream bringing in George close to his face, hands gripped on the small of his back. Nothing about it felt new. It felt, strangely, like second nature to the two of them; like something that had been waiting to happen from the moment that they met and had been delayed for too long. 

Their lips met and the night and day melded together in a warm embrace. Their bare skin touched, and Dream burned hot against George, and George loved every bit of it. They stood and held each other in that embrace for as long as they possibly could, breathing life and love into each other, love flowing freely between their mouths. 

It was a perfect fit, they both thought. Their limbs pressed together; their lips connected in perfect harmony; the constellation on George’s softly thumping heart pressed against Dream’s own.

It was perfect.

It was designed.

It was everything.

  
  


[the end.]

**Author's Note:**

> GEN IS TYPING...
> 
> i’ve been sitting on this fic for awhile, i actually got the first idea way back in february, but i just couldn’t get it quite right by myself so when kiv asked if i wanted to collab with them on it i was just so ecstatic :DD his writing is really just the cherry on top of this and i loved working with them so so much and had so much fun writing this with them, i hope u guys loved this as much as i do <3 alsoo kudos and comments are pog as hell!
> 
> -
> 
> _KIVY IS TYPING..._
> 
> _ayooo god au check? i feel like I've been seeing a lot of night/day god aus floating on twitter so its pretty cool that everyone likes the concept. hoping we did it justice :D writing with gen was super fun; all the stupid comments on the google doc was definitely worth it. their writing is *chefs kiss* magnifique *muah* so go check out their fics if you haven't already. thanks for reading, and i hope yall enjoyed it :)_
> 
> -
> 
> **obligatory self-promo! go follow us on twitter:[gen](https://twitter.com/honey_beb_) and [kivy](https://twitter.com/kivy_) ;P**


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